


Lullaby

by Cheshyr



Category: Guns N' Roses
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Past Child Abuse, Past Sexual Abuse, nothing explicit but boy howdy Steven's childhood was fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-11
Updated: 2020-01-11
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:27:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22216267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cheshyr/pseuds/Cheshyr
Summary: Steven doesn't see anything wrong with the things that happened to him as a child. Duff does. Duff very much does.
Relationships: Steven Adler/Duff McKagan
Comments: 5
Kudos: 52





	Lullaby

**Author's Note:**

> Steven Adler's childhood was fucked up and it makes me super sad so have a fic about it.  
> Warnings: Discussion of past childhood sexual abuse. Non-explicit, but absolutely there so please stay safe.

It was still dark when Duff woke up.

Blinking sluggishly, the bassist was confused- he wasn’t usually one to wake up in the middle of the night, especially given the long party hours and the vast amounts of vodka to help knock him out and keep him out. But he was still tired, and practically half asleep still, so he figured he wouldn’t have a problem just drifting off again. As he shifted to get comfortable though, a soft whimper reached his ears. His eyes snapped open, and when he heard a second whimper from behind him he suddenly felt wide awake.

Sitting up swiftly, he turned around to look at Steven.

The room was nearly pitch black, the streetlight outside their window having burnt out a few nights earlier, and it took Duff a moment for his eyes to adjust. It had been about a month since the members of Guns N’ Roses had been forced to shuffle their room arrangements after Izzy walked into the room he shared with Steven and got an eyeful of him and Duff in a far too compromising position. 

“We’ll be more careful, we’ll put a sock on the door or-”

“ _No_ ,” Izzy was firm as he cut off Duff’s attempts to be diplomatic, “I’m scarred, do you understand? That was an image I did not need. I need so much dope right now. Just… just switch Goddamn rooms with me.”

And, well, they couldn’t really argue with that.

None of the rooms in the Hell House were particularly varied; just four cramped walls that mostly contained piles of clothes and a variety of empty bottles. There were still two mattresses on the floor of what was now Steven and Duff’s room, but they usually curled up together on one, which is what had happened the night before. Steven was prone to tossing and turning in his sleep, but Duff had never heard him make sounds like this. The drummer’s face was scrunched up in a mixture of confusion and fear, and he kept making little noises in the back of his throat like a wounded animal. 

“Hey, babe,” Duff rubbed a hand up and down one of Steven’s arms, “wake up, you’re okay.”

Steven whined and mumbled, curling away from Duff’s touch, and the bassist felt his heart stutter. He’d never seen his boyfriend have a nightmare before and he hated it; he hated anything that made the drummer upset.

Doing his best to be gentle, he shook him harder, “Stevie, wake up!”

Finally, Steven’s eyes shot open. He took a gasping breath and, without even thinking, sat up and shoved Duff away from him. It wasn’t hard, just pushing back to put some distance between them, but it still startled both of them. As Steven blinked, becoming more aware of his surroundings, his watery eyes widened.

“Oh… oh, fuck, Duff, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Duff hushed him, “It’s fine, I startled you, no harm no foul.”

Steven didn’t look convinced, keeping his eyes downcast as he caught his breath. Duff gave him a minute before he couldn’t resist opening his arms in invitation, “Hey. Come here?”

The bassist was shy with his offer, afraid of overstepping or pushing too soon, but Steven immediately fell into his arms without hesitation, burying his face in Duff’s chest as they held each other close. Duff could feel Steven’s heart beating like a hummingbird against his ribs, taking deep shuddering breaths, and he tightened his hold on the shorter man. He wanted to chase his fear away.

“...Do you want to talk about it?” he asked softly after a few minutes. As far as he knew it was unusual for Steven to have nightmares, so for him to be this shaken up worried him beyond words.

There was a pause before the drummer responded, “It’s stupid,” he mumbled.

“No it’s not.”

He snorted, “How do you know? I haven’t even said what it was.”

Duff pressed a kiss into his messy blonde hair, “Because it’s you.”

For a moment he thinks Steven might try to argue. But when he speaks, it’s with a heavy sigh, “It really is dumb though. My dream wasn’t...it wasn’t like… it wasn’t anything _bad_ , so I don’t know why it freaked me out,” he explained, “Like, now that I’m awake I don’t get why I was so scared. It was, like, a memory. About this woman I fucked when I was a kid. And the sex wasn’t _that_ bad,” he tried to joke shakily.

Up until this point, Duff had settled back to lean against the wall, stroking Steven’s hair with one hand while the other pressed firmly against his back. But at the last statements, his hand stilled. 

Steven shifted uncomfortably against his boyfriend’s tense body, “I told you it was stupid,” he whispered.

“No, no, no,” Duff quickly snapped out of his head, kissing Steven’s forehead soothingly as he tried to organize his thoughts. Because it _wasn’t_ stupid. But the use of the words “woman” and “kid” in that sentence didn’t feel right. It didn’t feel right at all. He felt like he was standing in front of a tattered red flag and he was a little scared to venture forward. 

But he did anyway.

“It’s not stupid,” he reiterated, “Just…” he spoke slowly as he chose his words, “How… how old were you?”

“Um…” Steven furrowed his brows. In honesty, the question confused him a bit, “I was… thirteen I think?” He turned a bit so he could stretch his legs out a bit more, getting comfortable as he started explaining nonchalantly, “Slash and I went to this party with his dad, and we were the only kids there. We could hold our liquor pretty well but they had this punch- I don’t even know what was in it but it fucked us up pretty good,” Duff consciously kept his fingers playing with Steven’s hair, even as he felt his stomach clench, “I ended up sleeping with the woman who lived in the guesthouse. Slash’s dad told us later apparently she was married and her husband had it out for me, but,” he shrugged, “nothing ever happened, so I just sort of forgot about it. It was kind of just same ol’ same ol’ y’know?”

No. Duff didn’t know. A selfish part of him didn’t _want_ to know.

Reluctantly, he gently pushed Steven back just a little so that he could look at his face, “Did that happen a lot?” he asked, carefully considering his words, “Older women sleeping with you?”

His eyes darted away, avoiding Duff’s gaze as he shrugged, “I guess,” his face flushed as he muttered, “I mean, I’ve always been a slut.”

“ _Steven_.”

The sound of his name startled him, and he couldn’t help but look back up at Duff. Because his voice sounded… wounded. Heartbroken. His eyes looked about the same.

Swallowing thickly, Duff struggled to speak calmly when all he wanted to do was scream, “Steven. Babe, do you… do you hear what you’re saying?” 

“What do you mean?” Steven frowned.

And that’s what hurts the most, Duff realizes. Steven saying these things and not even realizing the implications. Not realizing what happened.

“You were a _kid_ ,” his voice was practically pleading for the other man to understand, “and an _adult_ -” the words cracked slightly, “The fact that adults… touched you, is not okay. Fuck, Steven, it’s not okay at all!” He grew increasingly desperate as he spoke, and Steven blinked in surprise.

“Duff, it’s not a big deal-”

“Would you say that if it was a 13-year-old girl with a married man?” 

Steven gaped at the angry words, “That’s different!”

“How?”

“I-... It just is!” he insisted, pulling away slightly, “Fucking older girls was cool-”

“They weren’t ‘older girls’!” Duff snapped, “They were _adults_!” He knew he shouldn’t be getting angry. He didn’t want Steven to think it was directed at him but God fucking _dammit_ he wanted to tear something apart, he wanted to break something, he wanted the blood of every person who had every hurt the beautiful man in front of him. He wanted the teeth of every person who convinced him it was okay.

Steven seemed to shrink in front of him, “I’m fine. It was fine,” he mumbled, eyes fixed on his lap, “I’m fine.”

Taking a deep breath, Duff felt the anger seep away, replaced by soft sorrow. Gently, with all the love in the world, he cupped Steven’s cheek and slowly tilted his head up until their eyes were locked. There was nothing but sincerity in his voice as he whispered, “Who are you trying to convince, Love?”

Blinking, Steven opened his mouth. But nothing came out. He swallowed and tried again but the words stay trapped in his throat, every lie and platitude sitting heavy in his chest and as long as Duff’s sad, loving eyes are looking into his he just can’t push them out.

But he doesn’t need to. Duff sees, and he tugs the drummer closer, pressing a firm kiss to his forehead and pulling him back into his chest, tucking his head under his chin and wrapping his body around him like a blanket. Or a shield. Steven sighs, and he suddenly realizes just how safe he always feels in Duff’s arms. He’d never really noticed before.

The bassist doesn’t try to make him talk anymore. He carefully rearranges their bodies to lie back down on the mattress, tugging the blanket back around their shoulders without ever letting Steven go. For a few minutes which seem to stretch on forever, they just lay together, Steven tucked into Duff’s body while the other stroked his hair and rubbed soothing circles between his shoulder blades. Maybe it’s the dark, or the quiet, or Duff’s heartbeat steady beneath his cheek, or maybe it’s just _Duff_. But Steven feels the words creep timidly from his chest.

“In my dreams…”

His voice was soft, and shaky. Nearly lost with his lips pressed against Duff’s skin. Swallowing thickly, he continued meekly, “In my dreams, they’re always so much... bigger than me,” he admitted, quiet and fragile like a child in a corner, “And I feel so _small_. And they kept giving me pills and alcohol and weed until everything was fuzzy and my limbs were all clumsy before they…” he trailed off, breathing shakily as Duff held him tighter, “Sometimes some of them would… In my dreams, sometimes they would give me money afterwards. And it made me feel so… but I needed the money so it wasn’t like I could say no, and I didn’t…” He has to swallow a few times as his voice cracks, because he doesn’t want to cry, but he wants to get these last words out, but he doesn’t want to cry. He doesn’t want to cry. But a few tears still escape when the words spill out.

“In my dreams I don’t know how to say no.” 

Duff’s breath catches in his chest, hearing all the words Steven can't say; _I didn’t know how, I was too scared, I was too dizzy and drunk and high, I was too alone and nobody cared._

Pressing his face deeper into Duff’s chest, he clutches his boyfriend like a lifeline and chokes out, “But they’re just dreams, right?”

He’s shaking, and he can’t even fool himself at this point, but Duff doesn’t call him out on it. He keeps himself steady and calm and somehow manages to pull Steven even closer, eliminating any space between them, surrounding him in warmth and security. He pressed his lips to the crown of his head and leaves no room for Steven to feel anything but safe.

“It’s okay. You can rest now. I’ll be here to chase those bad dreams away.”

Steven lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding and it feels decades old, sighing and sinking deeper into Duff’s embrace. He has a feeling this conversation isn’t done, but… that’s okay. For tonight, he’ll fall asleep to the bassist humming some nameless lullaby next to his ear, his heartbeat keeping time, safe and sound and certain that no nightmare would dare to touch him here. 

And when he wakes, they will both be in the same position, and the sun will be shining bright through their window, and Duff will still be humming, and Steven will feel more rested than he has since he was thirteen years old.

**Author's Note:**

> Hit me up on tumblr @motherfucker-oftheyear


End file.
